


What Must Be Said

by Reyka_Sivao



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Episode: s02e05 Amok Time, Feminist Themes, Gen, Power Imbalance, Sexism, Trek Women, Vulcan, Vulcan Culture, Women's Rights
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-16
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-24 15:28:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30074370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reyka_Sivao/pseuds/Reyka_Sivao
Summary: T'Pring has one last thing she must say to Spock.(Originally chapter three of The Empty Hand. But it stands so much better alone that I’m cheating and making it it’s own thing.)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 18





	What Must Be Said

T’Pring folded her hands carefully, made certain that the folds of her robe were even, and stiffened her spine into a semblance of composure as she sat and waited.

It had been many months since she had last seen him, and once she had thought she would never lay eyes on him again.

But now she was here, and it was of her own free will.

Silently, she waited.

Finally, the door opened with a quiet hiss, and the object of her interest entered the room. She rose to face him, and his step faltered before he came to a halt.

T’Pring raised her right hand in greeting. “Spock.”

Spock looked at her for a heartbeat longer than was strictly courteous, and clasped his hands behind his back. “T’Pring. I was not aware that you would be here.”

She let her hand fall. “I did not inform you.”

Spock’s lips tightened visibly, and the corners of his eyes hardened in an anger he would have denied. “In that case,” he said, “it would be logical for each of us to act as though the other were not here.”

“I did not inform you,” said T’Pring, before he could make good on his logic, “because I did not believe you would speak with me otherwise.”

“You assumed correctly,” said Spock. “There is no reason for us to have further contact.” He started to turn away.

“That is almost correct,” said T’Pring. “There is yet one thing that must be said, after which I know of no other.”

Spock paused, not facing her directly, but not completely turned away either. The air was stiff with veiled emotion, even through both their mental shields.

Finally, he inhaled. “Speak,” he said stiffly. “I will hear you.”

T’Pring closed her eyes. His anger was veiled, but still palpable—and yet, she found she preferred his honest anger to the pity or excuses or condescension she had faced on Vulcan.

“I wish that things had gone differently between us,” she said.

Spock’s hands tensed visibly.

“Things went as they did because of your actions, T’Pring,” he said. “Your wish is a hollow one.”

T’Pring’s lips tightened.

“Nevertheless, I wish it,” she said. “I had no desire to choose between my freedom and your life.”

Spock frowned and turned his head slightly in her direction.

“Your freedom?”

“I was yours,” said T’Pring, “existing to serve your need. I would not—could not—be that, to you or to anyone.”

There was a ripple in the mental space around her as Spock’s shields tightened to cover what she could only guess was shock. 

A silence rippled out with the soundless impact, and T’Pring did not choose to break it.

“You chose Kirk,” said Spock, very slowly. “You chose a human, unfamiliar with our customs, to be your champion.”

T’Pring nodded once. “Tell me, would he have invoked the rights he would have gained had he won?”

Spock was silent for another moment. “He would not have.”

T’Pring nodded silently. 

There was another contemplative pause, and then Spock turned to face her more fully.

“And Stonn?” he asked.

T’Pring one eyebrow. “Was his life worth less than Kirk’s?”

Spock did not answer. 

T’Pring raised her hand and continued. “I would not be owned—least of all by him. How can one cherish what one possesses? Had he won, it would have poisoned us towards one another, and I would have been left less than I was before.”

Spock closed his eyes, and the silence seemed to cement itself around them as he considered her words.

Finally, T’Pring let out a fraction of a breath and broke it to shards.

“I do not come to seek forgiveness,” she said, “nor do I expect it.” She clasped her own hands behind her back, unintentionally copying his pose. “I have faced the Vulcan council. I have spoken to those who would listen, and to many who would not. I speak in the hope that no one is put in my position again—or in yours.”

Spock opened his eyes, contemplating the bulkhead just beyond her shoulder.

“What change is it that you seek?” he asked.

T’Pring closed her eyes momentarily, not willing to hope.

“A way out,” she said. “No more. A way out that does not end in death and slavery.”

Spock considered that, and then met her eyes for the first time since the beginning of the conversation.

“You were fortunate,” he said.

T’Pring’s eyebrows drew together slightly. The words had been used against her often enough, usually with the implication that she should be grateful—and silent. But Spock’s tone contained more an implication of surprise, suggesting that he had never considered how this could have gone for her.

“I was,” she said. “I am. But I would not leave to chance the fate of the next one who cannot make the acceptable choice.”

“I see,” said Spock.

T’Pring inclined her head. “I would not seek your friendship, or even your association, after my actions. But what I must know is this: if the council calls upon you, will you urge them to reconsider? For the sake of tomorrow’s children, will you speak?”

Spock looked down for a long moment, but did not turn away.

“I will speak,” he said finally. “If more for Kirk’s sake than for yours.”

T’Pring inhaled evenly. “I thank you.”

“There is no thanks for what is necessary.”

T’Pring nodded. “I have said what I must, then,” she said, and considered her words for a moment. “However,” she added, “I would also have you know that I now understand why you chose Starfleet. My judgment of that choice was in error, and in that I wronged you. That, I regret.”

Spock glanced at her, quickly-suppressed surprise flickering across his face, but T’Pring did not wait for a verbal response. Instead, she bowed slightly.

“I thank you for your time,” she said formally. “Live long and prosper, Spock.” She turned to go, expecting only silence to follow her.

“…perhaps I shall,” said Spock, and she paused. “Peace and long life, T’Pring.”

By the time T’Pring looked back, he had already stepped through the other set of doors.

\--

Three days later, back on Vulcan, T’Pring received a copy of the impeccably-researched video message that Spock sent the Vulcan council supporting her goal of reforming divorce law.


End file.
